


Shadows and Lies Behind Closed Eyes

by Jinx72



Series: Bright Eyes Verse [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bright Eyes Verse, Food mention, Gen, Oh Jeez I Didn't Realise How Much Apathy Swears Until Now, Painkillers Mention, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Swearing, Sympathetic Deceit, self-deprecating thoughts, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 14:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17809421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx72/pseuds/Jinx72
Summary: Anxiety's just trying his best to cope. Deceit's trying to make sure everyone eats. With the Dark Sides, this is not an easy task, yet a kind of solidarity seems to come from the weirdest places when it comes to them.A prequel toBright Eyes





	Shadows and Lies Behind Closed Eyes

Anxiety slunk down the hall with silent feet, listening to the clatter and clank of pots and pans in the kitchen. It was methodical, almost rhythmic, so it wasn’t Insanity. It wasn’t simply the hum and beep of the microwave, so Apathy wasn’t attempting to cook. Anxiety lingered around the corner, listening to the breathy hums under the noise, confirming that it was Deceit before he stepped out.

Melting out of the shadows, he stood there for a moment, silent as he watched the other Side sort out dinner. Cloak-less and hat-less, Deceit had his phone sitting on the counter, music drifting quietly across the tiny kitchen. He couldn’t make out quite what it was over the cacophony of kitchen percussion.  
Deceit picked up a pot, humming in a way that nearly sounded _merry,_ bouncing on the balls of his feet in a way Anxiety might even describe as _happy,_ and turned around to fill it with water.  
“Hey,” Anxiety said.  
Deceit screamed in fear, dropping the pot with a mighty crash, leaping backwards.  
There was a heart-stopping moment of pause. Both of their eyes darted to the corridor, praying the others wouldn’t appear. Deceit’s music filled the silence.  
‘Listen… Do you want to know a secret?’  
They held their breath.  
_‘Do you promise not to tell?’_  
There were no half-assed shouts or thundering footsteps.  
_‘Oh-woah, closer… let me whisper in your ear.’_  
They were in the clear.  
_‘Say the words you long to hear…’_  
After a tense minute, they both relaxed. Anxiety fully stepped forward out of his shadows as Deceit fumbled with his phone and hit the pause button. In his rush, he dropped his phone in the sink.  
“Shit!” he cursed, reaching in after it. Anxiety could see the steam rising out of the sink, how hot the water must’ve been, but Deceit only let slip a small hiss of discomfort as he lifted his dripping phone out of the water.  
Anxiety ducked his head, and picked up the pot in silent apology as Deceit sighed in defeat. Quickly filling a bowl with uncooked rice, he shucked his phone in it and looked around for a place to hide it.  
Anxiety could smell the cooking food. It was smelling like it was good, but wouldn’t be for much longer. Deceit glanced between the bowl in his hands and the oven, building panic in his eyes.  
“U-um,” Anxiety started, but Deceit yanked the fridge open and shoved the bowl in the back, hiding it with other things and slamming the door closed. He turned, took the pot from Anxiety’s hands and placed it on the counter. He opened the oven and pulled out a tray of roast potatoes, and a side of what might’ve been beef. Setting them to the side, Deceit then switched the oven off.  
He let himself pause, leaning heavily on the counter. Anxiety watched the Side force himself to take measured breaths. Under his eyes, even his snake eye and the scales surrounding it, Anxiety could see his effect on Deceit, the dark smudges becoming pronounced.  
“Anxiety,” Deceit finally said. “I was expecting you.”

Anxiety swallowed back the lump of guilt in his throat and took a step back. He hadn’t realised just how much he was crowding the snake-like Side’s space. “J-just wanted to see how it was all going,” he fumbled.  
Deceit stared down at the counter, before he straightened up slowly. “It’s fine,” Deceit said, avoiding eye contact. He took the pot again, and filled it with water. He looked at Anxiety, and there was a tiredness in his eyes. “Pass me the vegetables,” he requested, pointing to the freezer.  
Silently, Anxiety sidled over and opened the freezer drawer, rustling around until he found the bag of mixed frozen vegetables. He tossed it to Deceit, who caught it deftly and sliced open a corner with a knife, pouring some into the waiting water. Deceit then set the pot on the stove, the lid on the pot, and switched the gas on. He wordlessly handed the bag back to Anxiety to put away.  
Anxiety leant against the counter as Deceit returned the rest of the meal to the switched-off oven, to keep it warm until the vegetables were boiled. They stood there in silence for a beat, before Deceit peeled off his still-wet gloves and set about washing the left-over dishes.

Anxiety watched the Side work. Deceit was the only one who really did any menial work in the Dark Sides’ area. You’d move a mountain before you got Apathy working. Insanity usually broke things more than he put them away, and Anxiety… didn’t like to work. He didn’t like to leave his room. He didn’t like the danger posed outside his room. Didn’t like the communal space. So Deceit took it upon himself.  
Deceit hummed quietly, but any semblance of care-free-ness was long dead. It was nervous, soft, and not any tune in particular, as if choosing one would have brought judgement on him, and it was more to distract himself from Anxiety’s presence than to enjoy himself.  
Anxiety shifted on his feet, already hating coming out here, already loathing how long it took him to convince himself to set foot outside his room, already despising how badly this went because of him. Deceit’s eyes flicked over to him briefly, as if he heard him say something out loud, which definitely hadn’t happened.  
A flicker of some emotion ghosted across Deceit’s face. If Anxiety dared to place it, he might’ve called it sympathy.  
As Deceit set another clean plate to the side, he grabbed a tea towel and offered it to Anxiety. As the black-clothed Side took it hesitantly, Deceit softly explained, “I can do this by myself.”  
It took Anxiety a moment to realise what he meant.  
“Yeah,” he muttered, picking up a cup and beginning to dry it. “Whatever.”

By the time they’d finished the dishes, the vegetables had boiled. Deceit plated the food and… stared down at them, as if steeling himself. Offhandedly, he passed Anxiety’s dinner to him, and shooed his hand at him. Anxiety stood there, staring Deceit down. He should go. He shouldn’t get in the way. He should…  
He should help.  
He could sense a person’s anxieties. It was kind of his thing. And they were pouring off Deceit like smog.  
“D’ya need a hand?” he offered quietly.  
Deceit blinked at him, surprised at the offer. He frowned in confusion for the briefest moment, before shaking his head. “No,” he said, picking up two plates and bumped Anxiety gently out of his path with his hip. Anxiety wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. But before his new-found courage left him, Anxiety set his plate aside, and took one of the places Deceit was balancing. “Which one is this for?”  
Deceit stared for a second, and despite the Side’s best efforts to mask it, Anxiety could see the tension drain from the crease between his eyebrows.  
“That’s to go to Apathy,” he instructed.  
Anxiety paused, remembering who he was talking to.  
“S-so… I’m going to Insanity?”  
He said he was going to help. But in his vigour, he somehow managed to wipe away how afraid he was of going to the others. It came rushing back with an orange tint at that realisation.  
Deceit evaluated the anxious Side, seeing the spark of desperation in his eye the Side couldn’t quite hide, before shaking his head. “These plates are not literally the same, so it certainly matters which goes to who. So I won’t go to Insanity,” he said. “I know you’d prefer that.”  
Anxiety couldn’t help but let a tiny smile of relief creep onto his face. “Thanks.”

* * *

Anxiety pushed Apathy’s door open without knocking. It wouldn’t be locked, and Apathy wouldn’t get the door anyway.  
“Who the fuck’s there?” rose Apathy’s voice from his bed.  
“It’s me, fucker,” Anxiety replied. He crossed Apathy’s room quickly, picking his way through the ungodly mess. “Deceit made dinner.”  
He cleared a space on Apathy’s desk, sweeping the clutter away with an arm, and put down the plate. He felt no qualms about dumping his stuff on the floor. He knew Apathy wouldn’t care.  
“Fuck off,” Apathy snapped, with no fire.  
“It’ll get cold,” Anxiety said.  
“Fuck off,” Apathy repeated, sounding bored and tired.  
He shifted in his bed. Anxiety wondered if he’d actually get up. He hadn’t seen him around in the Commons for a while.  
After a pause, he stepped closer and placed Apathy’s dinner on his bedside table. If it wasn’t in arms’ reach, Apathy probably wouldn’t eat. Then he turned and made his way back to the door. Lingering in the doorway, Anxiety looked back over his shoulder, and saw Apathy’s dull brown eyes, and smudged green eyeliner peering out at him from under blankets.  
“I’ll help you tidy up tomorrow,” Anxiety said, nodding at Apathy’s cluttered floor.  
Apathy was silent for a moment, before he blinked. “Whatever,” he said.  
Anxiety left, closing his door firmly behind him.

* * *

As he stood in the hallway, he wondered how Deceit was going. He could hear voices from behind Insanity’s orange door, and they didn’t sound raised, so it seemed to be going well. Still, he didn’t want to just walk off; Insanity was as changeable as the wind. Anxiety began to pick at the seam of his hoodie’s cuff. Deceit didn’t need him hovering nearby, he was sure. But he couldn’t help but feel that something was _off_. So he sat down in the corridor, next to Insanity’s door, and tried not to think about it too hard.

Almost nothing happened. After fifteen minutes, the anxious adrenaline that was keeping him wried and awake was beginning to wear off. Anxiety’s head was beginning to nod into his chest when he was disturbed by a sound.  
He heard a startled yelp from behind the orange door.  
And the smash of a plate. And gleeful laughter. And a muffled shout.  
A frown crossed Anxiety’s face as he hurriedly scrambled to his feet. He tried the door handle. It was stuck. Alarm bells began to go off in the back of his head.  
He put his back into it, trying to yank the door open harder. It rattled in its frame, but was stuck fast. That shouting voice started to sound a little more desperate.  
Seeing nothing else for it, Anxiety melted into his own shadow, and then slipped under the door without a sound.

Stepping out of the shadows into the eclectic clutter that made up Insanity’s room, Anxiety immediately drew back to press himself against the wall as a pair of feet swung through the space where he used to be.  
“Insanity!” Deceit shrieked as Insanity swung him through the air. “Put me down!”  
Instead of doing as ordered, Insanity giggled, and spun faster. “Aren’t you having fun?” he asked with a  wide grin. “You haven’t played with me in _ages,_ Deedee!”  
“I’m sorry!” Deceit shouted back, and he was beginning to turn green and he was gripping Insanity’s arms so tightly it was a miracle that Insanity wasn’t crying out in pain. “I’ve been busy! C-can we play a different game?”  
“But I like this one!” Insanity pouted, slowing down a fraction.  
“Yes, it’s lovely, but… but it’s dinner time!” Deceit fumbled for an excuse.  
“I’ve already had my dinner!”  
That explained the large shards of porcelain that Insanity was crunching underfoot. Dinner plate remains.  
“I haven’t, though,” Deceit tried to bargain. “And-”  
He cut himself off with another yelp as Insanity changed directions, quickly reaching top speed again.  
Anxiety watched in concerned confusion. He wasn’t equipped to deal with this. What should he do, what should he-?  
It turns out he didn’t have to make that decision. Insanity spotted him, and that grin of his grew even wider. “Anxie!” he shouted happily, and Deceit’s head snapped towards him. Their eyes only locked for a fraction of a second, but the message was clear.  
_Dear god, help me._  
“H-hey, Ins,” Anxiety stammered, gingerly raising a hand in greeting.  
“Do you want to play with us?”  
“W-well, uh, actually, I-”  
“Great!” cackled Insanity. “Catch!”

It was Deceit’s scream that registered before much else. The sight of the Side being hurled through the air towards him would almost be comical if not for the situation. But Anxiety knew without a doubt that he was not strong enough for either of them to come out of this okay. Not that any thoughts really logically registered in that empty moment of weightlessness where Anxiety made a split-second decision.  
_Fight or flight fight or flight fight or flight fight or flight fight or flight fight or flight fight or flight_  
 He stepped backwards, melting flat into a shadow on the wall behind him.  
Deceit hit the wall heavily. There might’ve been a _crack_. He slumped to the floor and didn’t move.  
Insanity hooted with laughter, clapping his hands. As Anxiety re-emerged from his shadow with a horrified look on his face, Insanity watched Deceit closely, waiting for him to get up.  
When he didn’t, his smile dropped away.  
“Deedee?”  
“He’ll be okay,” Anxiety quickly lied, crouching to sling Deceit’s arm over his shoulder to support him. “H-he just needs some sleep. He’s really tired from the game.”  
“Oh,” Insanity pouted, and there were tears in his eyes already. “I’m sorry. Can we play later?”  
Anxiety forced out an agreement around the lump in his throat, as he dragged Deceit from the room. “Later.”

* * *

Deceit was looking uncomfortably pale, and was breathing nerve-wrackingly shallow breaths by the time Anxiety had darted into his room and locked them in. He knew Deceit didn’t like his room much; no one did, but at least it didn’t mess with their perception of reality, like Insanity’s did. Deceit’s own room was closer to Insanity’s, and Anxiety didn’t really want to take the risk of proximity.  
He laid Deceit down on his bed, the yellow of Deceit’s shirt in sickly contrast with the black-and-purple covers. Anxiety disappeared into the shadows, avoiding any light so he was invisible to any onlooker and silently slipping into the kitchen. He grabbed the first aid kit, fished Deceit’s phone out of the fridge because the Mindscape should’ve fixed it by now, and their dinners, before making his way back.

His entrance was a silent as is exit. Deceit was still out of it, lying on his back. Anxiety decluttered his desk, mostly by sweeping what was on it onto the floor, and set his armload down.  
He didn’t really know what to do, and shaking Deceit gently didn’t do anything. He wanted to grab the side’s shoulders and violently shake him back to consciousness, but he didn’t think that was a good idea, and he’d probably do more damage than he’d save.  
So Anxiety waited.  
And waited.  
He set an icepack on the lump on Deceit’s head. Hesitatingly. He didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.  
He waited.  
He piled more blankets on Deceit as he fully realised how cold his room was, and the icepack, and how the snake-like side was at least somewhat cold-blooded. The last thing he needed to give Deceit was hypothermia.  
Should he run a bath? Should he get someway to wake him up? Smelling salts, or something? He didn’t even know what those were. But he heard one of the Light Sides, Creativity, he thought, had some. He could go steal some.  
But Creativity had a sword and was not afraid to use it, he reminded himself.  
So…  
What should he do?

When Deceit finally woke with a groan, Anxiety was an anxious wreck. Deceit tried to sit up, but softly cried out in pain.  
“Hey,” Anxiety frowned. “Lie down, dude. You’re in no shape to get up.”  
“W-what…?” Deceit tried to ask, but his voice sounded thin and sickly. It sounded like the room was spinning for him. Anxiety gently pressed down on Deceit’s shoulders, cueing him to lie down again. Deceit resisted as best he could. It wasn’t a very good attempt. He went down onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.  
Deceit rubbed his forehead with a wince as Anxiety fumbled with the foil packaging of painkillers, forking some out for him. Deceit swallowed them dry before Anxiety could pass a glass of water to him.  
Handing the water to him anyway, Anxiety made him take tiny sips as he hovered by his bedside.  
Deceit set the glass aside, half-drained, like he couldn’t stomach anymore.  
“Do you think you can eat?” Anxiety asked, wringing his hands.  
Deceit seemed to go green at the very thought of it. He croaked out a negative as Anxiety took a step back. He refused to deal with vomit. He absolutely refused.  
The colour slowly drained away as Deceit seemed to qualm himself. The Side had looked exhausted before, but now he look like death had warmed up. Yet, he tried to get up again. His head spun and he couldn’t walk straight, but he refused to let Anxiety help him across the room. All he kept repeating was “I’m fine,” on loop, like a broken record. Yet he didn’t make it very far before he nearly collapsed, and fortunately, Anxiety saved him before he hit the ground.  
“Oh, so you catch me this time,” Deceit joked thinly, clinging tightly to his friend, burying his face in Anxiety’s hoodie because the lights were too bright.  
Anxiety swallowed hard. “I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, and the guilt was clear in his voice. “I panicked.”  
“It’s fine,” Deceit said, and it sounded so genuine that it nearly set Anxiety at ease. Nearly. “Can I go back to my room?”  
Anxiety took one look at him before shaking his head. “Dude, you can’t walk. I’m not letting you out of my sight, and unfortunately, I’m not strong enough to carry you to your room, so you’re staying here.” He winced. “Sorry.”  
Deceit smiled for some reason. He could feel the shape of it through the fabric of his hoodie. “Okay,” he mumbled. He let Anxiety help him to bed, but _insisted_ that the Side help him take off his boots before he did. He felt bad about stealing Anxiety’s bed, but Anxiety waved it off. Still, Deceit managed to force him to eat, and kept trying to get up despite Anxiety’s warnings _(“I swear, Dee, if you get up one more time, I’m going to knock you out again.”)._  
Anxiety had to tuck yet another blanket around him, as the Side was shivering like mad. He wished the heater wasn’t broken; a result of one of Insanity’s games. They had yet to muster the courage to sneak into the Light Sides’ Commons to either ask them for a new one, or to steal one. Which ever would be easier.  
Despite the temperature, Deceit did fall asleep. At least, Anxiety _hoped_ it was just sleep. He could’ve flat out just fainted for all he knew. Should he try to keep him awake…?  
Anxiety forced himself to try and breathe deeply. No damage any of them took was permanent. Deceit was going to be fine.  
That was all Anxiety could promise himself.  
He’d be _fine._

It was the middle of the night. Deceit had still not recovered enough to move. He still lay prone on Anxiety’s bed. Anxiety had dragged his desk chair over to Deceit’ bedside, and refused to move, like some sort of emo guardian statue.  
He was doing his best not to nod off. Sleepless nights were nothing new to him, but his body was exhausted, his mind was exhausted, and it took all of his will not to fall asleep.

* * *

 The next morning, Anxiety woke up on his bed, with one of the blanket’s he’d wrapped around Deceit draped over him. He bolted upright with a jolt, and when he realised there was so sign of Deceit, he felt vaguely sick. What was this emotion churning in his stomach?  
He could hear the distant rumble of the shower running. Deceit was the only one who showered in the mornings, if at all. Anxiety cursed the Side under his breath as he clambered out of bed. He probably shouldn’t be moving around at all. Oh, he recognised that emotion, alright.  
Guilt.  
By the time Anxiety went through his morning routine, mostly to calm himself, and he ended up out in the Commons, Deceit was there, hunched over a bowl of cereal and glass of juice, holding his head in his hands as he tried to keep awake.  
“Hey,” Anxiety called softly.  
Deceit jolted upright, and Anxiety saw the wince he tried to hide. “Good morning, Anxiety,” Deceit replied, and his words were still a little slurred.  
“You should still be resting, dude,” Anxiety told him, approaching slowly and taking a seat across the way from him. Deceit shrugged, letting his head drop down again. “It won’t heal,” he murmured, more to himself than to Anxiety. “It never does.”  
Anxiety sat there in silence. He didn’t know what to do, really.  
He flinched at the sound of a door being flung open, and then uneven footfalls approaching.  
He tensed as Deceit slumped, hiding his face further into his gloves. From around the corner came Insanity, tottering almost drunkenly, like a toddler.  
“Hi!” he chirped.  
The words didn’t quite make it past Anxiety’s lips, but he forced himself to wave none-the-less. That seemed to placate the Side.  
“Good morning, Indiana,” Deceit half-whispered. “You aren’t up early this morning.”  
Insanity giggled at that, skipping over to the table and plomping down between them. Anxiety wanted to get up and go. Wanted to melt away and lock himself in his room, but the mere idea of leaving Deceit to fend for himself in his current state made his stomach turn on itself too many times to count and Anxiety rooted himself in place.  
“You hungry?” Deceit asked Insanity softly. The Side nodded enthusiastically, so hard his glasses nearly flew off his nose. “Alright,” Deceit laughed. “I’ll-”  
“ _I’ll_ make us breakfast,” Anxiety interrupted as Deceit tried to get up from his seat – and failed. Insanity’s eyes fixed on him with unnerving, unwavering intensity, and he already regretted his declaration but the thinly veiled relief in Deceit’s eyes made it worth it. Anxiety stood, and skirted the kitchen island. “W-what do you want, Ins?”

He couldn’t help but feel oddly satisfied at his attempt of breakfast. It was edible. It even was a little bit tasty, too. Insanity seemed happy. He took his plate to the sofa, and switched on the morning cartoons to keep himself entertained. He always set the volume a little too loud, but this morning, that fact was something Deceit was acutely aware off.  
Anxiety could read this like an open book.  
“Hey, keep the volume down, Ins,” he called from the kitchen. “15 at the most.”  
Insanity glanced at him, and did as he asked, but over the next few minutes, the volume creeped back up to where it was originally.  
Anxiety went to ask again, but Deceit slowly shook his head.  
“Effort appreciated, though,” he said.  
Anxiety was about to take his own plate. Suddenly, he realised that… Apathy! Apathy was out of bed, and was standing at the foot of the stairs silently, hands thrust into the pockets off the grey dressing gown he had thrown over his pyjamas. His eyes flicked down to the plate of breakfast on the counter, before away to a corner of the room, faking disinterest.  
“Does it smell that good, huh? That I summoned you all the way from your bed?” Anxiety teased, smirking at the disgruntled look on Apathy’s face.  
“No,” Apathy grumbled. “Fuck you.”  
The smile on Deceit’s face at Apathy’s reaction told Anxiety otherwise. Anxiety put the plate down on the dining table, opposite Deceit, and tapped the chair. “Eat your breakfast, you _dummkopf.”_  
“ _Puta_ ,” Apathy snarked right back, but still he ambled over and snatched the plate up, before wandering back to an armchair by the TV and slumped into it, eyes fixed on the cartoons as well.  
Anxiety sat next to Deceit at the table, watching the Side sip quietly at his orange juice and struggle his way through his cereal.  
Anxiety sat there and chewed his fingernails, and the skin around his fingernails. They were roughed up, proof of his habit.  
Deceit frowned at him. “Eat something,” he told him.  
“Not hungry,” Anxiety drawled, and avoided Deceit’s eyes as the snake-like side frowned at him and his lie.  
Deceit shook his head tiredly at him, and nodded towards his fingertips. “That’s not a way to give oneself an infection,” he lectured.  
Anxiety took his fingers out of his mouth, mostly to appease his friend.  
Deceit frowned down at his own bowl, before weakly pushing it away from himself, like he couldn’t stomach any more. Anxiety winced in sympathy. “Do you want some more Panadol?” he offered.  
Deceit hesitated for a second, before nodding slowly.  
“Gimme a sec. I’ll get you some,” he told him, before Anxiety slipped out of his seat to hunt some down.

* * *

It wasn’t until he returned, and set down the tablets in front of Deceit and sat down again, tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves, that Anxiety finally put his finger on something that had been setting him off-kilter all morning.  
This seemed almost domestic.  
That thought caught him off-guard.  
Well, almost; apart from the fact that Deceit was still pretty badly hurt. But still…

This felt… at ease. Light. His eyes wandered over to Insanity and Apathy by the TV. They weren’t bickering or ignoring or annoying each other. They weren’t bullying or hurting or insulting anyone. Deceit was being pretty passive, and Anxiety couldn’t blame him. But it was nice.  
He wasn’t sure why he had helped him so much, to be honest. He didn’t want to lose him, but he didn’t think he could fully trust him, either.  
But he seemed harmless right now. They all did.  
And that was weird. Really, _really_ weird.  
And Anxiety, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel on-edge, or scared. He didn’t feel like he wanted to run. Like he wanted to remove himself from this situation.  
He felt… okay.  
God, it’d been ages since he’d felt _okay._  
Deceit watched Anxiety acutely as Anxiety took his seat, and as he relaxed back into it as he surveyed the room.  
Deceit’s face twisted through several emotions, a frown, and smile, confusion, concern, before trying to settle itself into friendly curiousity.  
“Are you alright, Anxiety?” he inquired, watching him closely.  
For once, Deceit’s yellow snake eye that was boring into him didn’t unsettle Anxiety like it usually did.  
“You know what?” he told him, as he leant back and put his hands behind his head casually, smiling at the Side.  
“For once…? Yeah. I guess I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone curious, the song Deceit was listening to at the beginning was _Do You Want To Know A Secret_ by the Beatles. idk why but Deceit seems to be the kind of guy who likes the Beatles.


End file.
